What Am I?
by JoJo Dragons
Summary: P.O.V of whoever you want. Noble is obviously Ciel Phantomhive. Rated T due to description of a freshly killed man. What is this? Where am I? Why can I hear the stampeding of horses?


_**AN: Hia, okay, well, uhm, maybe I shouldn't post this, it only includes Ciel. (btw I've only watched the anime but I'm buying the manga and am currently waiting for volumes 1 & 2 :) but I guess I'll post anyway. I am planning a Sebaciel multichapter so yea. This is just something I wrote in English...yea, R&R I hope you enjoy!**_

 **What am I?**

What is this? Where am I? I don't understand, what is it I smell? What am I hearing? What are my senses detecting?

Pounding feet, no wait, not just that. What other vibrations through the ground can I feel?

Sloshing drinks, spilling and splattering onto seats and benches, they stand to watch, cheer and applaud. The smell of alcohol strong, mingling with the stench of people as the dense crowd sweats as one like the event that amuses them unfolds.

I can pick out conversations, arguments and agreements as the spectators slowly come into focus.

"'Ey tha' grey mare don't stand no chance." A loud gruff voice with a thick accent filled the space beside me.

"What the devil are you talking about? That's the one who's going to win." Replied another coldly, obviously male and a noble – he spoke like the rich man he was. But there was no alcohol in him, only the smell sticking to his clothes like all who come near it.

I unfocused my ears before they could sting with the torrent of cussing sure to come raging out of the former.

Light penetrated my closed eyelids – that's why I can't see.

Slowly, I forced them open, even though it was like seeing from the bottom of the sea; dark spots danced around before my eyes, they eventually swam into focus. Now I could see the pungent humans as well as them clogging up my sensitive nose.

Painfully, I sat upright, my vision momentarily gone again.

"Finally up are you?" The second voice made itself heard once more; I turned my head sluggishly to look at him. His face was blurry; ringing like church bells appeared in my ears. Confused, I searched the stands for the other man who had been with the noble; I couldn't find him, just a sea of waving, silent watchers facing the other way. My gaze lowered; I found him. Had anything been in my stomach, it would've found itself pooling onto the stands, mixing with the steadily growing flow of blood spilling out from the man in a crumpled heap in front, his bones all broken and protruding out from his skin, his clothes soaked and heavy – stained a dark red.

Horror evident on my face, I looked at the smirking noble, his hair covered his left eye, though I could still see the eyepatch underneath. His smirk was dripping with malign and malice, his uncovered cerulean eye turned red while the pupil became a slit like those of a demon.

Carefully, as if he was but a piece on a chessboard, he stepped towards me and at the same time, all the people jumping up joyously stopped moving – well, stopped once they'd all fallen dead to the floor, revealing the racing horses they were watching; a thick substance poured from unseen fatal wounds. The noble clicked his fingers, the smirk upon his face only growing as my attention was pulled from him to the change of the black galloping horses – they stampeded in our direction, nostrils flaring in a desperate attempt to retrieve oxygen, their muscles staining in the effort of their speed, their riders bouncing uselessly in their saddles like dummies.

No, they _were_ dummies; they had no facial features, simply a pale white colour.

"It amuses me," The noble spoke through my panic, "You're so repulsed and scared yet have no need to be, you've forgotten what you are."

Wait…what am I?

I stared at the incoming horses, no longer comprehending the danger. Their eyes were like his. They trampled me to hell.

What am I?

 _ **AN: Told ya, read it from the p.o.v of whoever you want, it could be anyone to be honest. *slithers away***_

 _ **~Jojo**_


End file.
